


Let It Go

by criminallobster



Series: Fire, Water, and Liquid Gold [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Internal Conflict, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Sequel, Therapy, no beta we die like george when dream is on half a heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 14,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28892058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/criminallobster/pseuds/criminallobster
Summary: They were happy. Until they weren’t.George and Dream finally got together after meeting up for the holidays. They were in love, they burned bright.Until everything burned down.Follow on them their journey of love, unspoken words, and finding the beauty in pain.(Sequel toLine Without A Hook. I highly recommend that you read this series in order as the plot of this fic is largely based off of Line Without A Hook, however this work could be read independently if you'd like.)Each chapter is inspired by a song or quote, listed in the chapter name.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Fire, Water, and Liquid Gold [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118765
Comments: 56
Kudos: 73





	1. Warning Signs

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember that this work is shipping or creating a relationship between the characters inspired by the CC's, not the actual people, and that if any of them say that they're uncomfortable with fanfiction, I will gladly take this down. Thank you :)
> 
> Note: there are parts to this fic that may be triggering to some readers. I have not added them to tags because of potential spoilers, but I've included a list of all of them in the end notes for the work as well as a note that there may be triggers in the notes for the chapters that have them.

Dream didn't like, he didn't crush.

He loved.

He loved with his whole, entire being.

And he broke with his whole, entire being.

Because when you're young, the warning signs look like the orange flames of passion.

* * *

George didn't trust, he didn't commit.

Until he met Dream.

He fell in love.

Then it all started to go wrong.

Because when you're colorblind, the red flags just look like flags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This is criminallobster from Line Without A Hook. If you haven't read that already, go read it :) This work will make a lot more sense as much of the conflict is based on details from Line Without A Hook. Chapter 2 will be posted in a few days as I'm taking a short break to regroup after finishing my previous work, but after that updates will be daily.


	2. Red Flags

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you for the support on this fic so far, I really enjoy reading and replying to your comments! Here's the second chapter. Happy reading!
> 
> My Twitter is [@arrestedlobster](https://www.twitter.com/arrestedlobster) if you want to follow me :)

It began with the small things. The little red flags, planted all over their relationship, that George perhaps didn’t notice until it was too late. If he’d caught on sooner, maybe they wouldn’t have had to end like this. Maybe they could’ve fixed it.

George had been busy that day, editing footage for his channel, programming a plugin for a video idea he had, his phone set to Do Not Disturb and left on the kitchen counter, where it laid untouched for hours. If George was being honest, he almost preferred it that way. Solitude was hard to come by these days. Everyone was just always _there_. Sapnap constantly asking to stream together, Karl's incessant "wanna play Jackbox?" And Dream. Oh, even Dream was starting to be too much. with his never-ending requests to call, Facetime, record.

He was kind of glad to have the excuse of being busy today.

George's phone was finally picked up after he went into his kitchen for water for the first time since that morning, his clock nearing midnight already. Time passes by fast when your main job is Youtube, he thought to himself, his smile slipping as he saw 14 missed calls from Dream on his screen. Guilt washed over him as he pressed the "call back" button quickly, hoping that everything was fine and that Dream was just bored.

His call was answered right away. "George," the man on the other end sounded serious.

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you call me back? I was so worried about you."

So that's why he called so many times. Typical. "Dream, I'm fine. I was just busy, okay? Don't worry about me," George answered, trying to soothe his anxious boyfriend.

"How can I not worry about you when you don't call me back all day? You could've been dead for all I knew." George heard the edge creep into Dream's voice. "George, you can't just run off like that and expect me to _not_ care. It wouldn't hurt you to just text me or something to let me know you're alive. I'm not asking much, but the least you could do is let your boyfriend know you haven't vanished off the face of the earth."

George felt his own temper flare. "Well, maybe you need to take a step back yourself. You're always up in my face, asking me to talk every single second of every single day." George knew he was going to regret this. He went ahead anyway. "I'm tired of it, Dream. You know why I didn't answer my phone today? I just wanted some space away from everyone, just wanted some time to myself. Is that really too much to ask?"

Silence from the other end. He knew he had gone too far. He hung up the phone.

* * *

It was silly, he knew. But he wasn't about to give in, and knowing Dream, the other man wasn't about to either. It wasn't until Sapnap called him a few days later that he'd decided to finally do something.

"Hey, George," Sapnap sounded somber.

"Hi, Sapnap. What's up?" George could tell something was off, even if it's just from the fact that he knew Sapnap liked to message on Discord and wouldn't call his phone number unless something was _really_ wrong.

"It's Dream. Did you guys have a fight?"

George considered this. Did their argument constitute a fight? After a moment of hesitation, he gave an affirmative "yes."

"He hasn't eaten in days, George." _What?_ "Ever since... whatever happened with you guys. He's just been moping around. I got him to order takeout the other night, but that's it. I'm scared for him. I asked him to Facetime the other day, and he looked so— he looked like a ghost."

George felt his heart ache for his boyfriend. Telling Sapnap he had to go, he called Dream.

It took him longer to pick up this time. "Hey," George started, taking a deep breath. "I know— I know we had that fight or whatever, but are you okay? Sapnap told me you weren't eating and—" he felt his voice crack, "please don't do that. No matter what happens between us, don't starve yourself, okay? Go eat something. You'll feel better, and then we can talk this out."

He heard a soft sniffle from the other side, followed by a "m'kay." Quiet footsteps faded away and came back, and George's computer let out a little click as Dream turned on his webcam.

_Holy shit, Sapnap was right._

Dream's eyes were empty, clearly cried out, and his skin looked clammy. His hair sat matted to his face, and his hands held a bowl of cooked instant noodles, which he was now ravenously devouring.

George began his apology, "Dream, I— uh, I'm sorry for lashing out like that. I didn't mean what I said. I was just angry and stressed out. Sorry." He looked down.

He knew he was apologizing for the wrong thing.

"Yeah, I'm sorry for yelling and just blaming everything on you. I should've listened to you, too."

So did Dream.


	3. Six Feet Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Thank you all so so much for the support on this fic so far, I really appreciate it. The song inspiration for this chapter is Six Feet Apart by Alec Benjamin. I absolutely love this song. It's just really comforting to me, and I highly recommend that you listen to it while you're reading this chapter! This song was originally written about the struggles of a relationship during quarantine, but the whole "I wish you were here with me" vibe really matched this chapter, so I decided to include it anyway.
> 
> As usual, my Twitter is @arrestedlobster if you want to follow me :) I post updates on the story there.
> 
> Enjoy!

George was floating away from him, a little boat in this raging ocean that seemed to forever push them apart. Dream could feel it, yet he held on tight, refusing to loosen his grip.

It didn't help that he was so far away, there being a literal ocean in between them. It was different when they were together, _actually_ together. Dream could tell what George was thinking, read his emotions as they flashed across his face. He could make out the thoughts going through his head, wash away his worries with a touch of his hand. He could feel George's heat against his body, arms caught in an embrace, hair buried in his face.

But now his days darkened as the warm June sunlight faded into suffocating July heat, and his days were spent wondering just why George seemed to be pulling farther and farther away. It was driving him insane, it wasn't healthy, and he knew this, yet somehow he couldn't help it, couldn't stop himself from calling his boyfriend every couple of hours, to which he was usually met with a response of "sorry, I need to do something, maybe later?"

Because he cared. He cared just a little too much.

This is it, he thought to himself. I need some air. Walking out into the scorching heat and stepping into his car, he headed for the coastline. Switching the radio to his favorite station because _um, old-fashioned music streaming all the way_ , his ears tuned in to a song he hadn't heard before.

_They say distance is relative_  
_Relative to relatives I have_  
_I'd say I'm relatively close_  
_To breaking down_  
_Because right now_  
_I feel so alone_

He felt so alone, so detached from everything. His growing fanbase was starting to seem more like words on a screen, his friends like people he talked to, forced laughs with for living, and George, someone he loved, so, _so_ much, who he wasn't sure loved him back anymore.

_I've been missing the elements and_  
_Wishing the elephant in the room_  
_Would leave and kindly close the door_  
_I can't ignore_  
_Him like before_  
_Not anymore_

Was that it? Had he been ignoring it all along? Had George simply fallen out of love with him?

_Oh, I miss you most at six feet apart._

I miss you so much. I miss our sleepless nights talking on the phone, our endless flirty conversations on stream. And the first time you hugged me, at that airport, the way everything just felt so _right_ , like I belonged, like we belonged.

_When you're right outside my window, but can't ride inside my car._

I wish you were here with me. I wish I could hold your hand, run my hands through your hair, I wish you would sing along to this song with me.

_And it hurts to know just how lovely you are._

You're so pretty, George, like an angel who fell out of heaven and straight into my life. You don't realize it, I can tell by the way you're always just a little bit self-conscious on stream when your webcam's on, but you are. You make me feel so alive, like I have a reason to _be_.

_And be too far away to hold, but close enough to break my heart._

I miss the way you used to blush at all my little comments, my attempts at breaking through your shell. You don't seem to do that anymore.

_I miss your smile._

I miss the way you used to smile whenever I picked up your calls, how your entire face would light up and you'd wave at me like there was nothing better in the world than just seeing me. You don't seem to even want to call me anymore.

_Feels like miles._

You're so far away, George.

_Six feet apart._

I wish we were only six feet apart.


	4. Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to give a big thank you to everyone that takes the time out of their day to read this fic, it means a lot to me. I just have a quick note about this work (and publishing writing online in general), and then I'll let you go read in peace :) As many of you might know, AO3 displays stats (hits, kudos, word count, etc.) on each work. As an author, these have proven to be invaluable in showing what readers tend to like/dislike when it comes to writing, and they've been very helpful in providing statistical feedback as well. However, recently I've been really stressed out by these stats, and I think it might be beneficial to my mental health if I choose not to view them. I've created a work skin that hides bookmark, kudos, and hit stats from me, and I plan to use it for the next few days at the very least. The fic will be updated as usual, and I will still be replying to comments. The reason I've chosen to include this in my notes is, mainly, to remind any authors that might be reading this to not be too anxious/stressed about work stats. Many factors can affect stats, and just because a certain work/chapter may not be as popular as the others doesn't mean it's not good. With that said, if you truly feel that you can't take your mind off of it, feel free to DM me on Twitter, and I'd be glad to send you the skin I use. Enjoy the chapter! (My @ is arrestedlobster.)

I wish we were only six feet apart.

An idea popped into his head.

Maybe it was the scorching heat of his car, muddling his thoughts. Maybe it was the desperation of the moment, dragging him down. But he latched on to the thought, the idea. _Maybe this would fix everything. Maybe this would save us._

He was wrong.

* * *

George heard his phone ring. He debated answering it. He knew it was Dream, probably calling with another “I love you” speech.

The truth is, he was tired. He was exhausted from their relationship. Their love had become a parching fire, consuming every ounce of his energy, his free time, whatever emotional reserves he had left at the end of the day. It had been hard right from the beginning, but back then... back then he’d had the motivation, the _desire_ to fight for it. Now, all he felt was an arduous numbness, a burden on his back.

And he couldn’t help but think it was time for the fire to burn out.

He picked up the Facetime call.

Dream’s face appeared on his phone screen. “George? Can we talk?”

He nodded his head, signaling for Dream to go on.

“So, I’ve been thinking. I— I miss you. And not just talking to you. I miss _being_ with you. Let’s be honest, George. I think we both know that long distance isn’t working out. Our schedules don’t match up, and I just feel like we’re drifting apart, you know? You’re so far away from me, and we can’t even talk on most days because you’re always so busy, and I just— I miss _us._ So I want to ask you, and I’ve wanted to ask for a while now.”

George knew where this was going. He tried to avoid the thought, racked his brain to find any other solution that Dream might be suggesting. He couldn’t.

He felt that sinking feeling in his heart, those stirring clouds before the storm.

He saw Dream’s eyes on the screen of his phone, the sheer hope in them that this would salvage the sinking boat of their relationship.

Dream made his petition. “Will you move in with me?”

For a second, for one honest-to-god, delightful second, he considered it, his mind flashing back to all those beautiful moments between them, that night he’d fallen asleep next to him, waking up to Dream’s arms wrapped around him, his confession as he laid on the hospital bed, not caring about the pain in his leg because _his Dream_ was there, their song playing in the background as he kissed Dream for the first time. _Oh, we had been so in love. So hopelessly in love. What happened to us?_

Then the moment flew away, and his ever-growing fear took its place.

_I’m not ready for this._

And he then could already see them, cramped in that little green townhouse together, the walls closing in, _Dream_ closing in. Their fights would become more than little quarrels, turning into longer and longer arguments until they didn’t speak to each other for weeks at a time. He would hate me. _I would hate him._ And worst of all, he wouldn’t be able to escape from it all, wouldn’t be able to just turn off his phone and forget everything.

He wouldn’t be able to run away.

Lightning flashes.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Dream.”

He could see the hurt on Dream’s face, his shattering heart, the anguish in his eyes that he’d just turned down the only hope he saw, the only hope there was.

_The burning fire takes over, stripping the air around him of oxygen, asphyxiating suffocation._

He remembered the last time he looked like that.

_Tears threatening to spill, roses wilting in the backseat of his car, a broken heart left alone in the dark kitchen._

He knew what he had to do.

_It would break him._

There was no other choice.

The thunder booms.

“I think we need to take a break.”

And the storm poured down.

The fire made its last attempt at survival.

“George, you can’t— I can’t— You’re my everything. I love you. Can’t you see that?” Pain streaked through his eyes.

“I know, Dream.”

“Then why the hell are you doing this?” He sounded angry now. “Tell me, George, why the _fuck_ do you keep avoiding this, avoiding _us_?” He looked at him with hostile eyes.

“I don’t know, I just... I want—” George’s voice cracked, and he felt his own tears welling up in his eyes. Just great.

“I need you, George. I need you here with me.” Those words sounded so wrong in Dream’s mouth. They were words of love, adoration, yet all George could hear behind them was seething anger, possession, smoldering fire. “I can’t live without you."

George knew. “That’s exactly why this isn’t working out.”

It didn’t stand a chance.


	5. Walked Through Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! No rambling today, here's our next chapter, inspired by Walked Through Hell by Anson Seabra, TOTALLY underrated song. (Seriously.)
> 
> Also, shoutout to ImperialEvolution for the comments! They always motivate me to write, and just thank you thank you thank you :)
> 
> (Trigger warnings and brief summary at the end.)

He felt angry at first.

Angry that George couldn’t give him what he wanted. Angry that he wouldn’t even try.

The sun was setting outside, beautiful, dashing streaks of magenta slicing through the purple skies, yet all he could see was burning red.

Red fury, the red stains of his bleeding heart.

Then his vision filled with white. Not the pure, untainted kind.

The numb kind.

He felt nothing, had no handholds of emotion to grab onto in his fall. His fall into an endless pit of _nothingness._

He walked into his bathroom in a daze. Turned on the shower.

Nothing.

Slid his hand under the water, testing the temperature.

Still nothing.

He stepped in.

The pain hit him as the ice-cold water hit his body.

All of the sudden, he was drowning.

 _I guess all the mountains I moved just weren’t enough_ _  
_ _And all those nights I walked you home_ _  
_ _From crowded bars when you were drunk_ _  
_ _Well, they meant nothing ‘cause you up and walked away_ _  
_ _And I just wonder what it’d take to make you stay_

What would it have taken for you to stay, George? I would’ve done anything. You know that.

 _What did you do with all that love you couldn’t give?_ _  
_ _And do you need someone to help you, tell you what to do with it?_ _  
_ _It must be nice to love someone who puts you first_ _  
_ _Then walk away when they expect it in return_

I gave you my everything. Why couldn’t you?

 _‘Cause when you said jump, I said how high?_ _  
_ _But when I jumped, you said goodbye_

I offered my heart to you on a silver platter. You took it, made it your own. And then you dropped it and shattered it into a million sharp-edged pieces. You didn’t catch me when I fell.

 _I would’ve walked through hell_ _  
_ _To find another way_

I still see your smiling face, back when our love was something you treasured, something you cherished. You seemed so happy back then. _I_ made you happy, I think.

 _I would’ve laid me down_ _  
_ _If I knew that you would stay_

I still feel your hand in mine, your arms around my waist, that day we were dancing in my living room. That was the moment I knew, you know? That was the moment I knew that there was something real in between us, that it wasn’t just all in my head.

 _I would’ve crossed the stars_ _  
_ _To keep you in my life_

I still hear your voice in the hospital. I really thought it was over, then. I was so scared for you. I wasn’t even thinking about us, really, just _you,_ if you were going to be okay. I never gave you those letters I wrote. And then you woke up, and you looked me in my eyes and told me you loved me.

 _But now I’m falling hard_ _  
_ _Without you here tonight_

I could tell you were falling in love with me. I could tell by all those little things I chose to, no, _convinced myself to_ ignore in the beginning. They started to pile up, though, and there was that warm feeling that pooled up at the bottom of my heart, slowly growing until you filled me up with all your late-night calls and pretty smiles and _I love you’s._

You set me on fire.

And I could tell you were falling out of love with me. I could tell by all those things I tried so hard to ignore once again. But again, they started to pile up, and the excruciating pain got to me. So I held on tighter, while you tried your best to escape.

And maybe you were right to. Because now, your fire is just burning out.

Mine is eating me alive.

The red-hot flames, smoldering around me, searing my skin.

The blistering heat, suffocating me, depriving me of air.

The blazing fire, taking over, taking everything until there’s nothing left but the empty shell of a broken human.

And if it had just been that — just the fire — I would’ve been okay with it.

But then the tide comes crashing in, and I’m drowning again.

The air being squeezed out of my lungs, my skin still on fire.

I can’t tell up from down, left from right.

I’m stuck in the abyss of my own misery.

I scream for help, but no noise comes from my throat. I try again, and again, and again, until my throat throbs and my mouth is dry and I can’t see anything but beautiful yet terrible blue.

_Blue._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:
> 
> Burning  
> Drowning  
> Suffocation
> 
> (These are all part of a metaphor within the story. None of them actually happen _in_ the story, but they are described very graphically as metaphors, so if you're uncomfortable with any of them, please skip this chapter. For those of you that decide to skip — this chapter happens almost completely in Dream's head. He reminisces about a time when their relationship was still healthy, and remembers noticing the signs of George catching feelings for him, and conversely, how those feelings eventually turned into something else. Dream also notes the way he feels consumed by their love now, like it was taking over and he was no longer in control.)


	6. Someone You Loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter's so short ahhh I HAVE SOMETHING BETTER PLANNED FOR TOMORROW I PROMISE.
> 
> (The song in this one is Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi.)
> 
> (Go follow me on Twitter @arrestedlobster.)

_ Blue. _

The color of the ocean, the sky, the color of blooming little periwinkle flowers. The color of sadness, yet also the color of trust, calm, serenity. Your favorite color.

I’m lost in the blue.

* * *

Dream laid flat on his bed, eyes sore from the unstoppable tears that had flooded his face earlier. Looking up at the ceiling, he still saw George. Those moments when he looked so  _ in love, _ so full of joy, the moments when he saw the love fading from his eyes, replaced with exhaustion, fatigue, and that last call, his dark eyes so full of apology, so full of  _ sorry. _ They flashed by in his mind, a heart-wrenching, horrifyingly beautiful train wreck happening in slow motion.

_ I'm going under, and this time, I fear there's no one to save me _ _  
_ _ This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy _

He felt so alone. George wouldn’t be there to save him this time. So who would?

_ I need somebody to hear, somebody to know. _

George wouldn’t be there to listen to his midnight rants about Youtube statistics now. He wouldn’t be there to catch him when he found himself falling, he wouldn’t be there to laugh at his dumb jokes. He wasn’t there anymore.

_ Somebody to have, somebody to hold. _

He needed somebody, anybody. But not really, because  _ somebody _ was George. And George couldn’t be replaced.

_ It's easy to say, but it's never the same. _

Missing you feels like missing a part of me.

_ I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain. _

You didn’t just numb my pain. You took it away. You took it all away, and I guess you had enough.

_ Now, the day bleeds into nightfall. _

Dream didn’t need to look outside his window to know that it was late. Tiredness crawled over him, urging him to give in.

_ And you're not here to get me through it all. _

His now muddled thoughts, memories, everything faded into one giant puddle of  _ I miss you. _

_ I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug. _

And somehow, that was okay.

_ I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved. _

Somehow, for a second there, his heart was okay with  _ I miss you. _

* * *

**dream** @dreamwastaken ⋅ 3h

taking a short break from youtube + streaming for personal reasons :) love you all <33

12.6k Replies | 14k Retweets | 121.5k Likes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UM SO AO3 crashed earlier today and wouldn't load and I genuinely thought the first chapter of Helium had been published or something—


	7. Back To December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry there was no chapter last night (and this is being posted about 12 hours late) but here it is *jazz hands* chapter 7! This is based on Back To December by Taylor Swift. I've been DYING to include a Taylor Swift song and this song was just perfect. Enjoy!

_You did the right thing._

So why does it feel so wrong?

_It had to be done._

But couldn’t I have found a better way to do it? Couldn’t I have spared his feelings?

_You know there was no other option. Stop beating yourself up over it._

But—

_Stop._

* * *

_These days, I haven’t been sleeping._

George looked in the mirror. Whoever wrote that song wasn’t wrong — without Dream there to remind him to take care of himself, to put his health first, he stayed up streaming until devilish hours in the morning on most days. Sometimes, he thought, he cared about me more than I cared about myself. Loved me more than I loved myself.

_Staying up, playing back myself leaving._

I don’t have a recording of that Facetime call, the call that’d ended everything, but I don’t need one. I see it in my head clear enough. Maybe too clear.

_When your birthday passed and I didn't call._

It was your birthday a couple of days ago. I remember staring at our DMs, debating whether or not to say something. I really wanted to. I hadn’t missed one of your birthdays since I met you, and it just felt... wrong, I guess, to break our tradition. Like we wouldn’t be us, not _Dream and George,_ if I didn’t do it. But we aren’t anymore, are we? We’re not us anymore.

_And I think about summer, all the beautiful times._

I saw on Twitter that you’re taking a break from everything. I’m glad you are. I don’t think you’ve taken time for yourself ever since your channel blew up.

_I watched you laughing from the passenger side._

George smiled, straight through the pain, his mind remembering their moments. Their happy moments, the subtle little grin on Dream’s face one day as George watched the sunset with him over Facetime, the freezing winter melting into warm spring, his lighthearted wheeze when George made a joke about them dating on a stream, their viewers oblivious to their relationship.

_Realized I loved you in the fall._

I’ve always had trouble with my emotions. Talking about them, dealing with them, handling them. It was easy with you, though. You were so easy to love.

_And then the cold came, the dark days when fear crept into my mind._

Then I got scared. Scared of being hurt, scared of trusting, committing. Scared of you, of losing what we had.

_You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye._

So I jumped. I jumped our sinking ship before it went down. You stayed, though, and now I’m sitting alone on the shore, looking out at our blazing, burning ship as it goes under. And I can’t help but wonder — if I was there, if I hadn’t abandoned you, abandoned _us,_ would I be able to help you, save you?

_So this is me swallowing my pride, standing in front of you, saying I’m sorry for that night._

I feel so alone. It looks tempting now, fighting on that ship with you for dear life instead of alone, here, watching. Anywhere else but here.

_And I’d go back to December all the time._

December. The memories swirl around his head, Sapnap’s obnoxious “I told you” when they walked into the kitchen one day, hand in hand, before George left. Dream’s gleaming golden eyes looking at him, seeing the beauty in him.

_It turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you, wishing I’d realized what I had when you were mine._

If this is what it feels like to be free, I’d rather be trapped with you.

_I’d go back to December, turn around and change my own mind._

His heart thumped in his chest, full of hurt and regret and _why did I do that?_

_I go back to December all the time._

I miss you, Dream.

* * *

George,

I wrote these letters that day at the hospital. Had them laying around on my desk all this time. I never gave them to you, but I couldn’t bear to look at them anymore, read those words I wrote before you hurt me everything happened. But I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them, so I guess this is my last gift to you, to finally send these letters to the person they were meant for.

Thank you, for our time together. Even though it all had to end.

—Dream


	8. Bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me here... I know these last couple of chapters have been mostly inside George and Dream's heads. The next one will be back to real-life scenes :) The song is Bad by James Bay.

George sat on his bed, eyes scanning over the handwritten words. Tears glistened in his eyes once more, his heart aching.

Those words, they felt so sincere, so real, so genuine. Like he meant them.

Well, he did mean them, George thought. He meant every single one of those beautiful, tormented words. He just didn't anymore.

I miss you so much, Dream.

_I know it hurts that we don't touch anymore_  
_It's even worse because we built this from the floor_

We did, didn't we? From my little Among Us slip-up to the present. It's almost ironic, that the words "I trust my Dream" had set off the chain of events that had led us here, how trust is the very thing that broke us.

_It's just as hard for me to know I might see you 'round_  
_It's just as hard for me to worry 'bout reachin' out_

Will we ever talk again? Record videos together? Or have I lost you forever?

_The more I think about you, the more I keep the ghost alive_  
_Yeah, the more I think about you, the more I keep the ghost alive_

I need to get this off my mind, get you off my mind.

_I want you bad, but it's done._

We're done.

_I'm bleeding out, 'cause we can't go on._

I know that, but why does it still hurt so much?

_I want you bad, till I shake._

I miss you, I want you, I need you. I love you. I... just have to think that thought one more time, before I let myself out of the warm comfort of loving you.

_I want what we had, but what's broken don't unbreak._

We were broken, though.

Don't unbreak us.


	9. Umbrella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, yay! There's (finally) dialogue and actually talking to other people again :) This one's inspired by Umbrella from Rihanna (though I can't get the image of Tom Holland dancing to this out of my head), enjoy!
> 
> Follow my Twitter for updates @arrestedlobster.
> 
> (In case you're confused about the POV situation — I tried to leave "hints" in the text, but I know it's a little confusing for this chapter — it starts out in Dream's perspective and alternates between Dream and George, hence ending in George's POV.)

8:47 pm  
 **Kate**  
hey  
haven't heard from you in a while  
is everything ok?

_Incoming call from Kate Morrison_

His finger hovered over the green button.

_Call accepted_

"Hey, Dream. What's wrong?"

"George and I, we..."

He told her everything.

* * *

"You did the right thing, George. I promise."

"It doesn't feel right. I don't feel right. Everything seems... off, without him here. Knowing he's not mine anymore."

"I can't tell you I understand, because I don't. Heartbreak's different for everyone. Just know that I'm here, okay?"

"Everything just hurts. It feels like the world is ending."

He could almost see Sapnap on the other end of the phone, debating whether or not to say his next words, as silence filled the space between them. "George, you know... sometimes you have to lose what you have to get it back. Or else it wasn't really ever yours, was it? You don't miss what you have. You miss what you have to do without. And I'm not trying to imply anything, because what's done sometimes is done for the best, but I'm just saying, over doesn't have to be forever. And if that's what you have to hold on to to be okay, then that's how it is. Lose him to love him, you know?

"You guys aren't good for each other right now, and you might never be. I think you know that already, even if you're hurting. But who's to say you're not allowed second chances? Because that's what you do when you love someone, isn't it? You try and try and try and, if you're lucky, you might just find the real thing. Not everything's rainbows and butterflies. Love is hard, and you have to be willing to pay the price, take the risk. And sometimes it just hurts too much. That's when you stop, and you let them go."

"How do I know, though? How do I know when it hurts too much?"

"Time doesn't forget. Time fixes, time heals, time forgives, but time doesn't erase. Think of it like this. Heartbreak is like a slash across your heart. The deeper it is, the more it hurts. Time heals that wound. If remembering all you had still hurts after the wound turns into a scar, you're hurting too much."

* * *

The raven-haired woman greeted him at the door. "Hi, I'm Dr. Annalise Lee. You're Dream, right?"

He nodded.

"Kate told me about you." She led him around the waiting area and towards a desk. "Sit down."

"Tell me about you. Who are you as a person?"

He pondered this question for longer than he expected himself to. "I... don't know."

"That's okay. Is there any specific reason why you're here today?"

"Dr. Lee—"

"Call me Anna."

"Okay, Anna. Didn't Kate tell you about me?"

"She did. I want to hear it from you, though. I want to hear your perspective, how you're feeling about all of this. I'm not here to give you life advice or to fix your relationship. I'm here to listen to you, to help you."

Dream took this in. "Where do I start?"

"Start in the present if you'd like. How you're feeling now, the thoughts running through your head right now. Just think about it for a little bit, actually. Focus on the thoughts in your head, pick them out, try to understand them."

_When the sun shine, we shine together._

We were supposed to shine together. _Be_ together. Us, invincible.

_Told you I'd be here forever._

So then why'd you leave?

* * *

Sapnap had hung up a few minutes ago.

_Said I'll always be your friend._

George sat on the floor, back pressed up against his bed, a gentle wave of rain washing down the hot summer heat.

_Took an oath, I'ma stick it out to the end._

We'll work this out, I know we will.


	10. Autumn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome.

Three Months Later

Dream sat at the kitchen counter, a bowl of pasta in front of him and a sticky note with "Anna, 6 pm" scribbled on it in his hand.

I should get going if I want to make it, he thought to himself.

Arriving at Anna's office, he couldn't help but remember the first of what became his weekly visits.

* * *

He had just finished telling her about George. _Them._

"Wow, that seems like... a lot," Anna began, "You were angry, right? Angry that he'd left you?"

Dream nodded.

"Are you, still?"

He considered her question.

"It's okay if you are. Just be honest, I'm not here to judge you," she reassured.

"It just seems so unfair, you know? One second he's here and he's mine, and the next... he's gone."

"You can't force someone to love you. I know it hurts, but... you have no other choice. And you have to understand that what you guys had started off as love, but it changed. Trust me, it's hard, but you have to let go of it, and maybe, just maybe, what you had before is still buried underneath somewhere. But you have to let it go first. And it will take time, and space, and patience, and there will be painful nights where you miss him and you want to call him again just to tell him that, and maybe you'll end up doing it, but it's okay. It's all part of the process, to heal, to grow, to let go. To be okay again."

He nodded.

And he did.

Little by little, day by day, he picked up the pieces of his broken heart, searching for a way to put them back together so that they fit. They did, for the most part. But every time, he couldn't help but notice the little cracks in between them, the small shards that had flown off when he'd dropped it.

It wasn't a missing piece, as if George had taken a piece of his heart that he couldn't take back. Things would be easier if it'd been that. He could've found someone to fill the empty spot, somebody who, even if they can't replace him, temporarily patch it up. But it wasn't like that. It seemed more like... cracks all over, small slits between the pieces, almost invisible sometimes. But once in a while, they sting. And there's nothing he could do but sit there and wait until they don't anymore.

There were the dark nights, when he felt the ocean, the flames taking over again. And he tried his best to fend them off, but sometimes he gave in.

And that's okay.

Sometime around September, he began to see it. The light at the end of the tunnel. The pain felt more numbed now, his heart didn't ache as much when he was mentioned. He could see it in his friends, too, how Sapnap let down his guard more around him, teased him sometimes, how Tommy and Tubbo were warmer to him, not afraid to break him like a glass vase anymore, how Wilbur wasn't nervous about singing his breakup songs on stream when he was there now. How everyone could tell he's begun to heal.

_Maybe it's time._

* * *

**dream** @dreamwastaken ⋅ 8h

super excited to announce that i'm back! twitch stream today at 9 pm est. new youtube videos being recorded very soon too <3

30.1k Replies | 82.7k Retweets | 600.2k Likes

"Hey guys. Welcome to the stream!"

 **Dreamsimp** donated **$20**!  
hey dream so glad ur back :) love youuu

He smiled.

Maybe he really was okay again.

* * *

Another month passed, the autumn leaves turning red, the smell of pumpkin-spice lattes all around him.

He looked out his window, having just arrived home from his therapy session.

The sunset was heartbreakingly beautiful.


	11. All Too Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so we NEEDED another chapter inspired by a song from Miss Swift, and here it is. (And no, I didn't plan for the events in the fic to line up with the song, but it just did, so— I DON'T KNOW I JUST HEARD THIS AND WENT WAIT THIS IS PERFECT OK?)
> 
> P.S. Sorry for the super late update, but this chapter's longer than usual so hopefully that makes up for it :)
> 
> P.P.S. Song is All Too Well by Taylor Swift.
> 
> (Also I just realized the POV situation here is super confusing so let me explain: it starts off pretty obvious, with George, and switches off to Dream with the usual POV change line break thing. Here's where it gets confusing. I didn't want to include like 50 of those horizontal line thingies I usually use for POV changes, but just know that it starts with George, and every time there's a new line or "block" of lyrics, the perspective changes, and if you've read Line Without A Hook as well as the previous chapters of the story, you should be able to tell who's "thinking" what by what's written.)
> 
> (And there's one part where there's one lyric but both perspectives are there. There's a new paragraph for the POV switch though, so hopefully it's not confusing.)

George should really go to sleep.

He wasn't going to, though.

Instead, he sat next to his bed, legs tucked into his chest, eyes peering out his window. The beach, usually full of kids running around, playing games, teenagers tanning in the sun, adults chatting on the side, was now empty. The tides roared, towering over the sand, climbing higher and higher until it reached its peak and crashed down, the waves washing over everything. The memories of yesterday, the sand castles those kids had spent hours on, the forgotten treasures buried underneath, maybe a week ago, maybe decades ago.

He turned on his laptop, opening up Spotify in hopes of listening to some calming music that would maybe, just _maybe,_ make him tired and finally decide to get some rest.

_You should take care of yourself. Dream would want you to._

He shook the thought out of his head.

It's been three months, yet...

_You're still on my mind, you know. I wonder if I'm still on yours._

His eyes scanned over his playlist. 

Driver's License. _Dead roses, white Volkswagen, hospital room._ He moved on to the next song.

Never Be Alone. He felt far too alone right now.

Night Changes. Dream used to love that song. Maybe he still does. He wasn't sure anymore.

Line Without A Hook. His heart still hurt a little too much for that.

_Why does everything remind me of you?_

He finally settled on something chat had told him to listen to in a stream. He never got around to actually listening to it, but he'd added it to his playlist.

The intro plays, and he's drawn into the music.

* * *

The sunset was stunning.

_I wish you were here to watch it with me._

No, stop thinking that, he told himself. Stop thinking about him.

That proved to be difficult when he turned on his laptop and his Spotify sidebar conveniently reminded him that, after all this time, he still followed George. And George was listening to one of his sister's favorite songs.

It couldn't hurt to just... listen. Right?

Is this what it's come down to? Listening to the same music as him just to feel some sort of connection to him again? To feel like what you had isn't completely lost?

He clicked anyway.

* * *

_And I know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more_  
_And I might be okay, but I'm not fine at all_

Is our magic gone, Dream? That _thing_ we had. Not the relationship, not the chemistry either, really. Just that... bond I've always felt with you, even when I'd just met you. Is that gone?

_'Cause there we are again on that little town street_  
_You almost ran the red 'cause you were looking over at me_

I remember you, on the hospital bed, so helpless. I'd sworn to myself then that I'd stay with you no matter what. No matter what you needed me to be. I guess... some promises are meant to be broken.

_Wind in my hair, I was there._

George looked out the window again. This time, though, he saw _their_ beach. The one they'd had their first kiss at. And suddenly the beach didn't seem so scary anymore. It almost looked... inviting. Welcoming. Waiting for him to—

_I remember it all too well._

I remember _everything,_ George. Why can't I forget?

_Photo album on the counter_  
_Your cheeks were turning red_  
_You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed_  
_And your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee-ball team_  
_You tell me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me_  
_And I know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do_  
_And I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to_

I was talking to your mom on the phone a few weeks before we broke up. She seemed so nice. My parents are never like that. They love me, I know they do, but they don't show it. They don't spoil me with love and affection like you do. Like your family does. Sometimes I wish I'd grown up with you, so I'd know what it's like to love.

_'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night_  
_We're dancing round the kitchen in the refrigerator light_  
_Down the stairs, I was there_  
_I remember it all too well, yeah_

Remember that, George? Remember that song?

I remember us dancing. That song... and you'd known the name too, somehow, and played it again. At the beach. I think that day in your living room was the first time I'd left myself so vulnerable to someone. I've always had trouble being close to other people. And then you stumbled into my life.

_Maybe we got lost in translation_  
_Maybe I asked for too much_

Did I ask too much? Was that why you left?

_But maybe this thing was a masterpiece._

You changed me, Dream. Little by little, you snuck your way into my heart. You made me open up, say things I didn't say before, be the way I wasn't before. You drowned me in your love until I couldn't _not_ anymore. Couldn't _not_ love you.

_'Til you tore it all up._

Or was it your fault? Why did you run?

_Running scared._

I ran because it was too much. I ran because I was afraid, because it was all new territory for me. I ran because I realized I never loved anyone else.

_I was there._

Why?

_I remember all too well._

I ran because I won't ever love anyone else.

_And you call me up again just to break me like a promise_  
_So casually cruel in the name of being honest_

You broke me. With eight words, you broke me. And no amount of words from anyone else will ever fix me.

_I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here_  
_'Cause I remember it all, all, all_  
_Too well_

He gave in. The tears streamed down his face, _finally._ He'd been holding them in for too long, and it showed. As his sobs rang out for the first time in those torturous three months, all he felt was relief. By instinct, he chided himself for it, remembering all those moments he'd been chastised for crying, for _appearing weak._ He pushed those thoughts away, because when it came to Dream, maybe it was okay to be weak. When it came to Dream, maybe it was okay to love, to feel, to experience. To dream.

_Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it_  
_I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it_

In loving you, I lost myself. But the question is: am I even myself anymore?

_After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own_  
_Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone_

I'd wanted to be left alone, but... not like this.

_But you keep my old scarf, from that very first week._

You sent me my things back. I got your package. It was missing something, though. I think you know what it is.

_'Cause it reminds you of innocence, and it smells like me._

I never gave you your hoodie back, did I? That one from the airport, the first time we met in real life. The first time I ever saw your face.

_You can't get rid of it._

I'm almost glad you didn't send it back. I don't think I would've been able to bear seeing that hoodie again.

_'Cause you remember it all too well, yeah._

I hate to admit this, but... I still have it, just a few feet away, on my chair. Sometimes, when it hurts the most, I put it on and pretend you're still here, with me. Even if it's just the ghost of you.

_'Cause there we are again when I loved you so_  
_Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known_

You were the one real thing I'd ever known.

_It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well._

Sometimes, I can almost feel you here.

_Wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all._

I remember every little detail, every beautiful word, every loving look.

_Down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all._

I remember every unsaid sentence, every broken promise, every shattered moment.

_It was rare, I was there._

I remember it all too well.


	12. Let It Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I have SO much to say in the notes for this chapter, so let's jump straight into it. One, this chapter is inspired by Let It Go by James Bay. Awesome song, many of you might have heard of it. (Also the namesake of this fic.) Two, had to put it here, I saw on Tiktok that mxmtoon is collaborating with Ricky Montgomery (in case you didn't know, the singer of the song that inspired the first fic in this series). Just thought that was cool :)
> 
> (Totally not having to do with the whole "GeorgeNotFound/mxmtoon" thing.)
> 
> And last but not least, Dream is releasing a song tomorrow and I am f r e a k i n g o u t. That's all I have to say. (Also... potential Dream's song-inspired chapter/maybe oneshot?)
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy the chpater!

As the song ended and the sun slowly inched towards the edge of the sky, Dream's thoughts ricocheted through his mind.

Anna's voice rang through his head. _"You don't have to forget. Just forgive."_

Did he have it in him, the courage to forgive George?

Scrolling through random songs on Spotify, he came across a song. Let It Go, strangely fitting for his situation. He hadn't listened to it before, but...

The first verse drew him in, and just like that, he's lost in the music.

_From walking home and talking loads_  
_To seeing shows in evening clothes with you_  
_From nervous touch and getting drunk_  
_To staying up and waking up with you_

He remembered the good times, the sweet before it all turned sour. The song played, the soft voice serenading him in the beginnings of crystal-clear heartbreak.

_From throwing clothes across the floor_  
_To teeth and claws and slamming doors at you_  
_If this is all we're living for_  
_Why are we doing it, doing it, doing it anymore?_

He remembered the taste of rejection, the burning hot taste in his mouth, lighting it all on fire.

_I used to recognize myself_  
_It's funny how reflections change_

I'm not me anymore. I can't... find myself. And if I'm not me, then _we_ aren't _us._

_When we're becoming something else_  
_I think it's time to walk away_

He remembered the bittersweet aftertaste. The smell of the ashes of their love coating his fingers as he dug deeper and deeper to find nothing underneath, his brain still remembering the sweetness of their old, innocent love. Their pure love.

_Tryna fit your hand inside of mine_  
_When we know it just don't belong_  
_'Cause no force on earth could make it feel right, no, no_

We don't belong together anymore. At least not now, we don't fit, like two pieces of a puzzle that's been soaked in water and twisted, morphed into something else.

_Tryna push this problem up the hill..._

Long story short, George, we didn't work out.

_When it's just too heavy to hold._

I didn't know why, I still don't.

_I think now's the time to let it slide._

But at least I'll know we tried.

_So, come on, let it go._

Let me go.

_Just let it be._

I think you've already done that. You seem to be doing well these days. Streaming with Karl and Sapnap and Quackity. Maybe you've already moved on. That helps, you know, knowing that you've done your part, and now it's my turn to do mine. In some weird, twisted way, I feel more at peace knowing that it couldn't have worked even if I didn't do this. That we were really doomed.

_Why don't you be you?_

Be you. Live your life. Be happy.

_And I'll be me._

And maybe I have to live my life, too. Even if you won't be part of it. Maybe I have to learn to be happy, too.

_Everything that's broke, leave it to the breeze._

Let us go. Let the wind wash us away.

_Let the ashes fall, forget about me._

Will you forget about me one day? I don't think I ever will. Forget about you, I mean. Forget you.

_Come on, let it go, just let it be_  
_Why don't you be you, and I'll be me?_  
_And I'll be me_

And with that, he let him go.


	13. Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ROADTRIP. HELP ME. I THINK I'M EXPLODING.

It began as a trickle. A light drizzle, dampening the world underneath it.

And then it was flowing rain, pouring over everything, soaking it all in water.

Soon, lightning struck, thunder rumbled, and it was a huge, terrifying thunderstorm.

Just when it got quieter, just when you thought it was over, when you looked outside the window to check if it was done raining, the waves rose, and the monstrous ocean took over.

That was when you learned it was the calm before the _real_ disaster.

The water washed over the burning flames of their love.

He took a step back.

Go. Go _live._

He turned around.

_You can do this._

He took his first step away, away from _him._

_Let it go._

He didn't look back.

If he had, maybe he would've noticed the liquid gold peeking out from underneath the ashes.


	14. Rainbow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody. I'm back! *jazz hands* Sorry for the extended break. I've made a Twitlonger about that if anyone is interested in the details (you can check my Twitter @arrestedlobster or click [here](https://twitter.com/arrestedlobster/status/1360903570900602880?s=20)), but basically I was really stressed out and just need a quick break, but I'll be posting more regularly from now on. I've also decided that there will be a third fic to this series called "Mine," and there's more info on that in the Twitlonger as well.
> 
> Please leave kudos if you enjoy this chapter, and happy reading :)

The rainbow comes after the storm.

George sat on his couch, the TV playing some random cliche superhero movie, absentmindedly scrolling through Twitter.

What was Dream doing nowadays, anyway?

Navigating to his profile, he saw that his profile picture had changed. It was such a tiny little detail, and he'd had it since before he even met George, but it made him sad, nostalgic nonetheless. Like nothing was the same. They weren't, though, were they?

Scrolling through his feed, he noticed that Dream had announced his return to streaming and Youtube a month ago. I should've been there to congratulate him, at least tell him that I'm glad he's back, he thought. Sighing and checking the trending tab, he read the first one: DREAM IS LIVE.

His mouse hovered over Dream’s profile, his browser tab already opened to his Twitch account. He told himself he was just curious, that he just wanted to see how his friend (ex-friend? ex-boyfriend?) was doing.

He lied. In truth, and maybe he knew this somewhere deep down, he wanted to hear Dream’s voice one last time, not the hungry, heavy one he used with him, the one that always wanted more. He wanted to hear the lighthearted one, the happy, excited one that he’d use whenever George joined his stream before everything had happened, the content one that was there during those nights that they’d stay up late to call, both drowsy and just glad that the other person was there, even if the other person was across an entire ocean and thousands of miles apart.

He clicked.

As he sat there watching Dream chat with his viewers, he was reminded of that voice. The calmness behind it, almost saying “you can depend on me,” the serendipity. That there, he thought, _that right there_ is the Dream I fell in love with. Underneath all of the toxicity and obsession, he was still there.

I think I did the right thing, Dream. Our relationship, what it was turning us into, turning _you_ into... I don’t want to see that again. I love _this_ you, the real you. It was the right thing for both of us, I think. You had to be apart from me to find yourself again, to be free from everything. I was bad for you. And I had to lose you to see the truth, without those goddamn rose-colored lenses that made everything so harmless and dangerous at the same time. And the truth is _I still love you_.

The question is: will you take me back?

* * *

10:07 pm  
 **George  
** hey  
i was watching your stream earlier  
do you want to talk sometime?  
about everything that happened

10:23 pm  
 **Dream  
** sure  
call?

His phone rang.

He picked up, Dream’s face popping up on his screen.

_Oh my god._

He sat there, frozen, for what seems like an eternity. Seeing his face, seeing those beautiful golden eyes, it was like it was happening all over again. Everything lighting up, burning, consuming, breaking. Shattered pieces scattered all over the ground, smoke in the air, suffocation overtaking him.

_Pull yourself together._

He gathered his breath.

“Hey, George? You okay there?”

_His voice._

The gentle tone, concern and _care_ lathered behind it. The way his face shifted in worry.

_Get it together._

He shook the thoughts out of his head.

“Y— yeah? Sorry, my phone was still connecting.”

Dream gave a nod, and they sat there, not sure what to say to each other.

“So, uh,” George started, “How have you been?”

Dream seemed to contemplate this. “I wasn’t doing well. You hurt me, George.” He could see the hurt in Dream’s eyes as he said this, betraying his emotions. “I wasn’t doing good at all for a really long time.”

George wanted to say “I’m sorry,” wanted to make some kind of apology, but what are you supposed to say to that? How do you apologize for breaking somebody’s heart when you know it was the right thing to do?

“It’s okay,” Dream continued, seemingly to be able to sense the sorry written on George’s face. _After all this time, you still know me, know exactly what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling._ “I know... I know it’s hard. And I understand why you did what you did now. It’s okay.”

With that, George smiled for the first time in a long, long time. It was a soft smile, the corners of his lips bending up just a little bit, but a smile nonetheless. Dream must’ve caught it too, because he grinned as well, eyes sparkling and cheeks lifted in a genuine smile.

_Why did I ever let you go?_

So they chatted, small talk to begin with, getting to know each other again. George felt at peace, finally, his heart settled into that safe space in his chest, as Dream went on about his idea for a video on the other side of the call. It almost seemed normal, like how it was before everything had happened. And maybe that was enough for now.

As they neared the end of the call, George couldn’t help but ask, “Dream, before you go— What are we, now? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I just wanna know where we stand. How to act around you, I guess.”

Dream thought about this on the other side. “I don’t know. I think I’m still struggling to... find myself. Find who I was before everything changed. And you know, maybe I’m just not that Dream anymore, maybe I’m searching for someone who’s no longer there, and maybe that’s okay. Honestly, I’m still just trying to figure everything out, and I don’t want to try and figure _us_ out before I know who _I_ am, I guess. Just give me some time, George.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “We can still talk, though? I don’t want to—“ his voice cracked, “I don’t want to lose you like I did last time.” I didn’t just lose my boyfriend, he added silently. I lost my best friend, too.

“Yeah, of course.”

And so they did. Facetime calls at first, a couple times a week so they wouldn’t be overwhelmed but could still keep in touch. A few times a week turned into once a day, and those once-a-day calls turned into hours spent messing around on Minecraft together, and that turned into (to the fans’ delight) George joining Dream’s streams and Youtube videos again, laughing and screaming and they chased each other down in manhunts and speedrun challenges alike.

Just like it used to be.

Almost.

* * *

The autumn leaves fell down the sky, piling up on the sidewalks, the streets, everywhere.

George’s eyes flitted towards the window in a momentary glance before looking back down to his phone, Dream’s contact picture filling up the screen.

Were they ready for this?

For once, he pushed away his doubts, those fears that haunted his days and nights, questioning him and his every move. This time, he jumped.

He pressed the call button.

Sometimes, you have to push past the storm to see the rainbow.


	15. Jump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Sorry for the late update (and it's a filler chapter too ahhhh) but I forced myself to be productive and I'm p r o u d. We'll get to the (more) exciting stuff next chapter I promise :)
> 
> Again, please leave kudos if you like, and I'm really excited for where this is going!

Dream's phone rang. He looked over to his phone.

George.

He pressed "accept call" without much hesitation now.

It's nice, he thought, to not have to overthink everything. It's nice to just be able to take his call without thinking about everything that _could_ happen, everything that _did_ happen. It's nice to have let go.

"Hey, Dream," the British accent on the other side of the call greeted.

"Hi. What's up?"

He could feel the man on the other side take a deep breath. "I was, uh, wondering. If you'd like to visit me," George said, "It's fine if you don't want to after everything, but I just thought it'd be nice to, you know, spend the holidays with someone. And you'd finally get to visit Brighton like you've always wanted to."

Dream thought about this.

Was he ready to do this?

_No,_ his brain whispered. _You'll fall again. Do you want to end up with a bleeding heart and the broken pieces of who you once were, like you did last time? Haven't you learned your lesson? You haven't even fully healed yet. Why take the risk?_

But his heart said _do it. Do it or you'll regret it. Do it or else you'll spend the entirety of that time thinking about what would've happened if you'd said yes, what you would be doing right now if you'd went._

"You don't have to decide right now if you don't want to. It's a big decision, I know. Think about it for a couple of days, okay?"

He nodded.

* * *

"Welcome back, Dream. Any particular reason why you wanted to see me today?"

"Actually, yeah,” he nodded, “George asked me to visit him.”

His therapist looked thoughtful. "That's... interesting."

She paused, and Dream sat there, expecting her to continue. When, to his disappointment, no additional comments were made, he asked, "Should I go?"

She seemed to have been waiting for him to ask this. "Do you want to go? Do you want to see him?"

He gave an affirmative nod again.

"Then do what feels right to you. I think you've grown enough, healed enough that you're ready to see him now. Obviously, don't go if you don't want to, but I have a hunch that that's not the case here. If you decide not to go, don't let the reason be the fact that you're scared.”

“Okay,” he swallowed.

He had to do it now, didn’t he? It was time.

“Oh, and Dream?” she added, “If you do decide to go, it's important that you agree on a set of rules. Boundaries, if you will. Lines that aren't to be crossed. It’s up to you guys to choose what’s right for you, but just make sure that you’re both comfortable.”

They chatted after this, Anna asking about how things were going with his return to Youtube and Dream answering that yes, things were going well.

They were. His fans were obviously overjoyed that George had been joining Dream in his videos again, though they were a little curious as to why he disappeared in the first place. His channel was once again growing at the speed of light (something the designer for his merch wasn’t too happy about — coming up with new ideas for a milestone hoodie every ten days had to be exhausting).

* * *

He called George as soon as he got to his car.

“I wanna go, George. I wanna go to Britain.”


	16. Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter again *internally cringes* it's late here okay?
> 
> (I originally meant for this chapter and the next to be combined but ended up splitting it so I wouldn't have to write a huge chapter all in one night so that's why.)
> 
> (Also I need to go watch Tubbo's cooking stream vod because I missed it earlier :/)
> 
> Anyways enjoy the chapter and please leave kudos or a comment if you like :)

“Rules?”

“Yeah,” Dream answered, “Like, what things we can and can’t do while I’m there. So we don’t cross any lines. My therapist suggested it, actually.”

“You have a therapist?”

Dream nodded on the other side. “I started seeing her a few months ago, after we broke up.”

Was it that bad? That he needed a _therapist?_

After a pause, he continued, “Remember when I said I wasn’t doing well? I really wasn’t. I couldn’t— couldn’t stop thinking about you, about us. I talked to my friend about it, and she recommended a therapist to me. She’s helped a lot.”

George knew he’d be hurt, but he hadn’t realized how much. He did now, though, and it stung him, knowing that Dream had _hurt_ because of him, knowing the extent to which he broke him. His heart ached to build a wall between them, to separate them so he’d never hurt him again, yet this time he hesitated to let the thought run free, because he knew now that the wall did not care what confronted it. The sharp edge of a blade and the thin tendrils of revived feelings are no different to the wall. It did not understand that one was harmful and one was good, and maybe that was the way it was meant to be.

After all, to love is to hurt, isn’t it?

And so they set their rules, built the wall up halfway so that they couldn’t step over it, couldn’t get too close, but still see each other on the other side.

It was just tall enough that, if they jumped, they could hold out their hearts again and hope the other doesn’t drop it.

* * *

One Month Later

Dream looked at the ticket in his hand.

They had decided for him to leave a week before Christmas (it was strangely reminiscent of the last time they’d seen each other in real life, but their silent agreement was to not talk about that), and he was now packing last-minute for his flight that was departing in three hours.

Great decision making skills, Dream. Real great.

As he ran through his airport, hoping not to miss his flight, he was suddenly hit with a nervousness in his chest.

What was it going to be like to see George in real life again? Was it going to be awkward? Oh god, if he had to endure seven whole days of awkwardness...

It hadn’t registered with him, how real it was, until he was literally sitting on the plane that would take him there.

He shook the thought out of his head. _Stop overthinking, Dream._

He was going to see George again.


	17. Warm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Here's our next chapter, featuring some hardcore fluff and Dream _finally_ flying out to see George (yay). I'm gonna be honest — I really wanted to make this awkward for *character development purposes*, but I gave in and wrote this instead, so enjoy my disgustingly sweet chapter (or as sweet as it gets in a fic called Let It Go) and my sarcastic commentary because hey, I'm not THAT cringey *cringes as I'm typing this out*.
> 
> Anyways... finally checked stats again and um THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for 6k on Line Without A Hook and 1k on this, I love you so much enjoy this chapter!

George’s thoughts spun in his head like a whirlpool, a hurricane of words and emotions racing through his mind, absorbing everything else in its path.

Dream. _Dream_ was going to be here.

It reminded him of the first time. Little butterflies fluttered around in his stomach, making him restless. He tried telling them to go away, tried telling them that Dream was here to visit him _as a friend,_ reminded them of their rules. They settled down a little bit but stayed there nevertheless, a constant reminder that, after all this time, this _thing_ that he had for Dream still couldn’t be erased, forgotten. It was there, ever-present, and he didn’t exactly know what to do with it.

 _Maybe you can’t let it go because you don’t want to let it go,_ his brain whispered.

“Yeah,” he mumbled absentmindedly to no one in particular, “Maybe I don’t really want to let it go.” He let out a deep breath, sliding down in his seat, the sudden calm taking him by surprise. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

He started up his car.

* * *

He was standing there again. Viridian eyes that appeared golden to George, glittering in the distance.

_Just like last time._

A smile, a real, genuine smile that spread across his whole entire face as he spotted George.

_He saw something more there this time. Something more to his smile. It was a kind of... familiarity. Like coming home instead of going out on an adventure._

As George was pulled into a bear hug, he couldn’t help but remember that warmth he felt last time, the warmth that seeped into his body like Dream was his anchor to the world. He searched for it again, only to find that it was already there, that it was _him_ that was radiating heat, comfort, fondness this time. As if Dream’s warmth had never left him at all.

_Maybe that was what you did to me. You made me warm, Dream._

As they pulled apart after what had to be the longest hug in the history of time, he looked up at Dream’s face.

He looked the same, yet so different.

His features were the same, but there was something odd in his expression this time. Last time it was a kind of almost childish happiness, joy painted on his face, glad that George was there.

George could only describe what he saw this time as a gentle, fond look. It was almost... domestic, he realized with a start, the word clicking in his brain.

 _Which makes no sense and is probably just a misinterpretation on your own part. He’s probably just happy to see you._ Or at least that's what George told himself.

He looked pretty, though.

Friends were allowed to think that, right?

_Right?_

* * *

It was awkward at first. There was no questioning it. They wandered around George’s house, Dream’s futile efforts in asking questions about random pieces of furniture one in a while as to not let the overbearing silence consume them quickly dying down, and the atmosphere was tense, to say the very least.

After a late dinner and the decision that sleeping was definitely for the weak (even if you’ve been on a flight for 11 hours and desperately needed it), they pulled out their computers and started up Minecraft.

Because obviously, a block game is the best way to break the ice.

It must have worked, though, because two hours later, screams and laughter rang throughout the house, and George was pretty sure that his neighbors could hear Dream’s “come here, George”s and his own “Dream, _stop_ it”s.

They settled onto George’s couch after finally wearing themselves out (apparently Minecraft is very energy-consuming when you’re trying to run from your best friend-slash-ex), and George put on some random movie that neither of them would be paying attention to anyway.

Some 30 minutes later, George was nestled into Dream’s chest and one of Dream’s arms was wrapped loosely around George's torso. _Friends do this. Totally. It wasn’t like it was violating their rules or anything._

He looked up at Dream, catching him studying his own face as well.

“I’ve missed you.”

He could see the words register in Dream's brain.

A pause.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

You made me so, so warm.

I didn't think you could set me on fire again.


	18. Sapnap (Once Again) to the Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take it. I'm too tired to type. Also I did not proofread this at all so excuse my questionable grammar.
> 
> It's 4:30 am okay?
> 
> (And yes I had to split this chapter as well it got w a y too long.)

“Dream. Dream. Dream. Wake up.”

Dream woke up to the sight of chocolate brown eyes.

He liked that color.

“George, how’d you get in my room?” he asked sheepishly, the fog in his brain clearing and his vision focusing.

Ignoring the question, George yelled, “It’s Christmas, Dream. It’s Christmas!”

Dream sat up in his bed as George jumped up and down like there was no tomorrow.

“You’re such an idiot,” he grinned.

“Come on, get up. We have a whole day of Christmas-ness ahead of us.”

Dream shook his head and smirked triumphantly. “What are you gonna do about it, _Gogy_?”

He could see the blush spread on his face, could see that he was stepping towards the line. He looked at George, waiting for his reaction.

_Are you okay with this?_

“But it’s Christmas,” George tilted his head, eyes looking into Dream’s and lips forming into a pout.

_I’ll take that as a yes._

“Oh, is that the case, now?” Dream said. Jumping out of his bed, he grabbed George’s shirt and pulled it towards him, his friend’s smaller frame collapsing onto his bed. Dream fell on the bed second later, groaning as he—

_Oh. Well, this is awkward._

George was literally _beneath_ him, his face just inches away, brown eyes equal parts surprised and amused.

“Dream.”

“George.”

_I guess this is what we’re doing now._

And suddenly his world was being flipped around, his wrists held in place and his body pinned down by the weight of George above him.

“Not so snarky now, hm?” he heard as he looked up, a smirk on George’s face. He was so close, close enough that Dream could count the faint little freckles on the bridge of his nose. Close enough for Dream to see each individual eyelash on his face. Close enough for Dream to wonder why there was an almost curious look in his brown eyes.

There they were, dancing on the edge of danger, threateningly close to the edge. The smallest misstep would take them to the realm of no return, yet they stayed there, neither wanting to move farther away but neither of them sure enough to take the first leap.

Or maybe they were already there.

Maybe there was no going back now, and maybe there hadn’t been since that first day Dream had arrived and they woke up the next morning, limbs tangled together from the so-called platonic cuddling the day before. Maybe it was two days after that, when George had insisted on taking Dream ice skating and they'd held hands the whole time, because Dream apparently had no sense of balance and couldn’t skate on his own despite being on the football team when he was high school. Or maybe it was the day after the ice skating incident, when Dream had woken up in George’s bed after George had streamed too late. Dream had, according to George, dozed off in the latter’s bed waiting for him to finish, and George had, for reasons unbeknownst to him, decided to climb in next to him instead of sleeping on the couch (not that he minded).

Come to think of it, the only rule that they hadn’t broken yet was the kissing thing.

Rule number three: no kissing. Right there, a line of text on their supposed “contract” whose all other terms had been blissfully ignored.

Just perfect.

* * *

Turned out, Dream’s Christmas present was a road trip.

Like, literally.

“We leave at 11 am,” George announced, clout goggles in one hand and Dream’s presents to him — a clay figurine of their Minecraft characters standing next to each other, among others — in the other.

“That’s in 20 minutes,” Dream reminded him.

George looked at him as to say _and what about it?_ , and Dream gave in, replying that he needed to make a phone call before they could go.

* * *

“Sapnap. Help me.”

“What?”

“George,” he explained unhelpfully.

“I’ma need you to get a tad more specific than that.”

And he did, describing every event that took place in the past seven days in meticulous detail.

“Okay, seems like you’ve got it all under control there. Cute British brunette that you’ve been in love with for the past few years likes you back, for the second time, might I add, and you guys are flirting like there’s no tomorrow. What's the issue?”

“ _That’s_ the issue, Sapnap. I don’t know if I can do this. We made the rules for a reason.”

“So what _do_ you think the rules were made for?” Sapnap questioned.

Taken aback, Dream replied, “So neither of us get hurt again. So we don’t hurt each other again.”

“What if I tell you the boundaries were set to be broken, that the limits are only there so they could be proved wrong?

“You have to have realized this by now. You were never meant to be told what you can and can’t do, even if _you’re_ the one setting those rules for yourself. I know you, Dream. You’ve always tread too far, whether that’s a good thing or not. Yes, you can leave everything unsaid and leave tomorrow. But it’ll never go away, even if you never say or do anything about it. _Especially_ if you never say or do anything about it, because then it’ll be on your mind every time you talk to him. _What if I’d done this? What if I’d done that? Would everything be different? Would it have changed something in the end?_

“So if it feels right, Dream, _do it._ Tell him everything.”

* * *

George sat in his room, thumb scrolling through his contacts.

Everyone was either streaming (Karl, Quackity, Ranboo), asleep (everyone in the States), or 16 years old.

His eyes rested on the name of the only person that would be available to call at this hour.

Technoblade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: sorry, your overworked author has very intelligently miscalculated the time between Christmas and New Year and made a mistake on one of the previous chapters. It’s been corrected now, but if you read that part before, know that Dream is actually staying for _one_ week and not two, and that he’s planning to leave the day after Christmas.


	19. Technoblade's Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. This is going to be a longer note (I think?) so I'll get straight to the point. I really wanted to finish this before school started again, and I was on track to do so until I added like two extra chapters to the plot and split a bunch of chapters as well. So, to make up for it, I wrote all the remaining chapters in this fic tonight, so here you go — TRIPLE update plus the first chapter of Mine, the third part to the series that this fic is in. Enjoy! (And please leave kudos if you like sleep deprivation is getting to me.)

10:45 am  
 **George**  
techno  
answer

**Technoblade**  
yes?

_Outgoing call to Technoblade_

_Call has been accepted_

“Hello there. How may I be of assistance today?”

“I need help, Techno. With Dream.”

He could hear the man on the other side take a deep breath. “Okay, spill.”

“He’s visiting me right now. And I know that sounds like a bad idea, since, you know, we broke up, but we were on really good terms and I wanted to spend the holidays with someone, yada yada. Point is, he’s been here for a week and he’s been, well, weird.”

The other man seemed intrigued. “Go on.”

“We made this set of rules that we agreed to follow while he was staying here, no teasing, no holding hands, no sharing a bed, all that, and so far, we’ve broken all but one of them. I just don’t know where we stand, you know? Before, when we were still together, I _knew_ I didn’t want to be in a relationship with him because it was toxic and that fact overshadowed everything else in my mind, but now, everything’s reminding me of the last time we were actually together. Maybe it’s the time of year, with the whole happy Christmas vibes thing, or maybe it’s just because he’s here with me and he’s looking at me with those stupidly pretty eyes that I can’t even see the actual color of, but I can’t stop thinking about him.

“I know it’s not in a platonic way because he pushed me onto his bed this morning and I blushed so hard my face probably resembled a tomato, and I’m pretty sure my brain short-circuited because it fucking decided that it would be a good idea for me to pin him to the bed.”

George could hear the slightest of chuckles from the other end, along with something that sounded like, “Imagine being in love. Couldn’t be me.”

He continued on, “The problem is, I think he’s feeling the same way, too. He has to, from the way he’s been acting, but I know he won’t say anything because I told him to give me space last time and he’s, well, giving me space. It’s like he’s drawing me in just by being there, but not enough to make me cross the line between friendship and _more,_ and I have to be the person to take that step this time because he overstepped last time, and he knows that.”

“You are aware that you sound like a lovesick teenager?”

“Yes, now tell me what to do.”

There was a pause before the other man started, “I have to say, George, I’m more of a war kind of guy than a love kind of guy, so I really wouldn’t know much about this. _However,_ as a former English major, I have read my fair share of Romeo and Juliet and other useless works of romance, so here’s what I have to say. Take it with a grain of salt.

“You know the whole ‘right person, wrong time’ thing? Ask yourself: is he the right person? Take your time. Think about him, think about what he means to you. Once you’ve got everything laid out in front of you, though, if you have to hesitate to say that he’s the right person, chances are, he’s not. There’s a difference between taking time to _realize_ that he’s the one and taking time to _convince_ yourself that he’s the one. Be honest with yourself. Which one have you been doing?

“And if you answer, without condition, that he’s your _person,_ the person that understands you and sees through your walls and notices your flaws and loves you anyway because they’re not flaws to him, they’re what makes you perfect, then you know where your heart is. And if you know where your heart is, then what do you have to lose?”

“You know an awful lot about love from reading Romeo and Juliet.”

A pause.

“Maybe I was in love, once, too,”

“They weren’t the right person?”

“No.”


	20. 'Tis the Damn Season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay second chapter here we go. The song is 'Tis the Damn Season by Taylor Swift, and we also have a Night Changes throwback to chapter 18 (I THINK) of Line Without A Hook. Enjoy! (Also apparently Dream and George actually sang Night Changes together in a voice call like HUH WHAT?)
> 
> My laptop crashed in the middle of posting this and I thought I didn't save the doc with all my drafts in it. I think I had a mini heart attack.

_Keep your eyes on the road._

He couldn’t.

Not when Dream was right next to him, wind flying through his dirty blonde hair, screaming the chorus of the song on the radio.

“Come on, George, sing it with me!”

George shook his head stubbornly. “Nope. Not a chance.”

“Why, though? Embarrassed to sing in front of me?”

No, George answered in his mind. He wasn’t uncomfortable singing in front of Dream. He wasn’t shy of doing anything around Dream, really.

“No,” George replied, out loud this time, “I just like hearing you sing.”

It felt natural now, their casual flirting. They’d avoided it at the beginning, probably for the better, when they were just getting to know each other again, but Dream’s flirty personality, in combination with those stupid butterflies that made an appearance in George’s stomach whenever Dream was around, made it far too easy for them to throw comments like the one just made by George at each other. Another broken rule on their contract, another thing they kept doing anyway.

“We’re only getting older, baby, and I’ve been thinking about it lately. Does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes?”

George didn’t want to think about the way Dream’s singing voice made him feel. “You’ve always loved that song. Why?”

“Everything that you’ve ever dreamed of, disappearing when you wake up.”

It was so warm, like a blanket of comfort that wrapped itself around him with every word, every melody, every verse.

“But there’s nothing to be afraid of, even when the night changes.”

_I’m scared of losing you, though. When the night falls tonight and the sun rises again, you’ll be gone, an ocean away again. And anything can happen when you’re an ocean away._

“It will never change me and you.”

_I hope so. I hope it never does._

* * *

Dream wanted to tell him everything.

He couldn’t bring himself to, though.

It was like tape sealing his mouth shut, forcing him to talk about something else or nothing at all. Sapnap told him to do it, sure, but something in his chest told him not to, to not mess things up again, because he did too much, went too far last time, so by some twisted logic, shouldn’t it be George’s turn to take the first step? If George wanted them to be more than just friends, shouldn’t he say something?

You’re just too scared to tell him, the voice in his head told him.

He couldn’t find it in him to tell the voice that it was wrong, that he really _was_ just waiting for George, giving him time.

“Dream?”

George’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Yeah?”

“Oh, I was going to ask if you wanted lunch. I packed some food since restaurants probably won’t be open, and we can pull over at the next exit and eat in the back or something.”

Dream agreed, mind floating back to his confused emotions.

* * *

“Hey, Dream, you okay? You’ve been acting weird today, zoned out, kinda.”

“Yeah, no, I’ve just been thinking.”

George was curious. “What about?”

“Oh, uh..." Dream seemed to hesitate at this.

“You can tell me.” George tried to look in Dream’s eyes, but he seemed to be avoiding him. “What’s going on?”

George watched as Dream sighed, giving in to George’s attempts at eye contact and finally looking him in the eye. “This morning. What happened?”

_Oh._

George debated telling the truth, right then and there.

_I still love you._

How hard could that be?

He was saved from making a decision when Dream added hastily, “It’s fine if you don’t feel like answering.” George could almost hear the silent “I don’t want to push you” at the end of that sentence.

“Okay,” he replied instead.

“Okay.”

_But maybe I wanted to answer, too._

_Maybe I needed you to push me._

* * *

The radio was still on when they got back in the front seats, Dream driving this time.

An unfamiliar song came on.

_We could call it even  
You could call me “babe” for the weekend_

I wish you would. I wish we could be what we used to be, even if it was just for today, before you leave, before we go back to _just friends._

_’Tis the damn season, write this down  
I’m stayin’ at my parents’ house  
And the road not taken looks real good now_

It does, doesn’t it? The road we never took, the words we never said, the things we never did. Maybe it was time someone said them. Maybe that person has to be me.

_Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires  
Now I’m missing your smile, hear me out_

It really does seem like yesterday that it was last winter and we were lying on that beach, _our song_ playing as the fireworks exploded, and the way everything just melted away when you kissed me. I was so in love with you, and I wondered for months where that affection went.

_We could just ride around  
And the road not taken looks real good now_

Maybe it’s been here all this time.

_And it always leads to you and my hometown._

Maybe I had to _want_ it to see it.

_Sleep in half the day just for old times’ sake  
I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay_

But I know you waited for me. And maybe a part of me wants you to stay.

_So I’ll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends  
Who’ll write books about me if I ever make it  
Wonder about the only soul  
Who can tell which smiles I’m fakin’_

You know me too well. You can read my mind like an open book, and I let you, too, because you always know what to say. Except when it comes to us. When it comes to us, you get tongue-tied. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

_And the heart I know I’m breakin’ is my own  
To leave the warmest bed I’ve ever known_

I don’t want you to leave.

_We could call it even._

We could. We could call it even, forgive each other for all the scars we’ve given each other.

_Even though I’m leaving._

And you could stay for a little more, you know.

_And I’ll be yours for the weekend._

You don’t hurt me, burn me. Not anymore.

_’Tis the damn season._

You make me glow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that wasn't a Roadtrip chapter jhfdsjfkjf I needed a road trip to fit the lyrics for the song I ended up using. Don't worry though, I have a Roadtrip fic in my drafts that I've been waiting to edit for the longest time and I'm finally going to get around to that :)


	21. Someone To You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Longer author's note at the end :) Song is Someone To You by BANNERS. Enjoy!

The sunset was beautiful.

It was really a shame that it had to be watched through the windows of a car headed towards the airport.

In a way, Technoblade was right. Not all stories have a happy ending. Romeo and Juliet? They both die. Jack and Rose? One of them dies.

But a broken heart by choice hurts even more than a broken heart by fate.

Because some things you just can’t bring yourself to say, and some secrets, he thought, are meant to be kept. He tried to push away the knot of unease in his stomach, the feeling that he was making the wrong decision.

It stayed there.

He parked the car.

“Thanks for driving me again. You didn’t have to.”

He whispered a “no problem” and debated whether or not to walk in with him.

He got up at the last second.

_Do it. Tell him._

_I can’t._

_I can’t... I can’t say it. It’s like there’s a wall there, between me and my words, and I can’t reach over and grab what I need. I can’t..._

A song started playing in his earbuds. He’d forgotten that he’d left them in. It went on as they walked into the airport, people walking around, everyone in a hurry.

_The kingdom come, the rise, the fall  
The setting sun above it all_

The airport had a glass wall facing the front entrance. He took Dream’s hand by instinct and led him towards the wall. Initially stiffening at the soft touch, Dream followed, relaxing his own hand.

George pointed at the sunset, a slender finger directed at the glowing sun.

He noticed Dream’s eyes lingering on his hand longer than necessary. He didn’t comment on it.

_I just wanna be somebody to you._

Are you the _right_ person?

Or are you just a person?

As the sun fell beyond their view, Dream announced that he needed to get going. Sharing a brief hug, he gave him a little smile before he turned around and walked away, and George stood there, watching his retreating figure.

And as everything came apart, it all came together for him.

_I just wanna be somebody to someone, oh._

I want to be your light in the dark.

_I wanna be somebody to someone, oh._

Your warmth in the cold.

_I never had nobody and no road home._

Your New Year’s kiss.

_I wanna be somebody to someone._

The one you wake up to every morning, the one you fall asleep next to every night.

_And if the sun’s upset and the sky goes cold  
Then if the clouds get heavy and start to fall  
I really need somebody to call my own  
I wanna be somebody to someone_

I want to be your past, the memories you smile at when you reminisce on the “good old days.”

_Someone to you..._

I want to be your present, the person taking you on road trips on Christmas day, the person pointing at sunsets in airports, the person playing Minecraft with you at 3 am in the morning.

_Someone to you..._

I want to be your future, the one grinning like an idiot as you slide a ring onto my finger and Sapnap makes some dumb speech that’s meant to be funny but really isn’t and everyone just laughs anyway.

_Someone to you..._

You spoiled me with your dumb compliments and bear hugs and oversized hoodies and whatever else you had to give me.

You make me feel so loved.

_Someone to you..._

Let me love you, too.

_Someone to you._

“Dream, wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s the end of Let It Go!
> 
> Thank you all so so much for reading. The support I’ve gotten in the process of writing this fic was insane, and that was definitely something that motivates and inspires me to write. As mentioned earlier in one of my chapter notes, there will be one last fic in this series! It’s going to be called “Mine,” and it will highlight the rest of Dream’s time in Brighton. I’d also like to note that this work is going to be more on the spontaneous side as well due to the fact that I feel like my writing comes off more natural when I write without a strict plot. It will still be more planned out than Line Without A Hook as I have basic ideas, songs inspirations, etc. written down, but there won’t be much more beyond that. Something that I might try with this fic is writing chapters out days in advance so I wouldn’t be “forced” to speed-write a chapter every night for daily updates but still have it be not as structured or limited.
> 
> I feel like I’ve grown a lot through Let It Go, maybe even more than Line Without A Hook. I got really burnt out in the middle of writing this, and through that I’ve learned to take breaks when I need to and not overwork myself (yes, it really took falling asleep in the middle of writing a chapter to teach me that, but hey, whatever gets the job done). Either way, this was a really great journey for me. I hope you enjoyed this, and please consider checking out [Mine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631564/chapters/72847050) if you did! (There’s one chapter posted, but, like last time, it will be a few days before I start updating regularly.)
> 
> That’s all I wanted to say, and thank you again for reading my fic!
> 
> Until next time,  
> M

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for entire work:
> 
> Burning (chapter 5)  
> Drowning (chapter 5)  
> Suffocation (chapter 5)
> 
> (These all occur in a metaphorical-ish sense, see chapter 5 end notes for more details.)


End file.
